


2003 Toyota Corolla

by mrdifranco



Series: I Would Hate You If I Could [2]
Category: The Office (US)
Genre: F/F, Missing Scene, classic Jim and Pam but Jim's a dyke named "Jen", dyke!"Jen" Halpert, dyke!Jim, it's mainly just Jim being a sad dyke in love with her engaged best friend, set just before Jim moves to Stamford, technically canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23841934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrdifranco/pseuds/mrdifranco
Summary: It's the night before Jen Halpert leaves her hometown of Scranton, Pennsylvania for Dunder Mifflin's Stamford branch. She knows it's necessary, and she knows why it's necessary, but she just can't seem to get a certain receptionist out of her mind....Part 2 of the "I Would Hate You If I Could" series
Relationships: Pam Beesly/Jim Halpert, Roy Anderson/Pam Beesly
Series: I Would Hate You If I Could [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1452100
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	2003 Toyota Corolla

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been a while since I posted my last work, but inspiration struck and here we are! This is the second installment of the "I Would Hate You If I Could" series, and follows Jen Halpert as she goes to Stamford. This is set mainly on the night before she moves to Stamford, told in second person POV, with a little future-tense involving her time at Stamford and the merger that brings her and Pam back together. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy, and as always, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters or storyline of "The Office," NBC does. I also do not own the song lyrics included here, which are from "Ivy" by Frank Ocean, an amazing song that you should definitely listen to. Additionally, I don't own the song that inspired the title for the series, "I Would Hate You If I Could" by Turnover, another great song.

It always starts like this - something simple, a passage in the book you’re reading, a song that comes on, even a goddamn fucking whiff of something that smells slightly reminiscent of her. This time, at 4 am, stoned out of your mind, it’s the Frank Ocean song on your speakers. I could hate you now // It’s quite alright to hate me now // When we both know that deep down // The feeling still deep down is good. You start thinking about her, again, for the millionth time today, even though you know it’s over and you’re never going to see her again. And then, it’s only minutes before you’re breaking down on your living room floor, crying your eyes out, hating her for saying no and hating yourself even more for feeling the way you do about her. It’s not easy to calm yourself down; in fact, you can’t calm yourself down, because you feel like you’re drowning. You feel like these feelings for her are suffocating you, killing any parts of you that cared about anything else. You only see her, only feel her, only care about her. It’s so stupid. It’s just a straight girl crush. But you know it’s more than that, because you’ve never broke down crying on your living room floor at 4 am listening to “Ivy” after smoking a couple joints. You know it can’t just be a crush, maybe never really was just a crush, because she’s always felt different to you. It’s hard to explain, hard to put into words, but she’s just always felt right, always made sense to you. You’ve always thought that, if she would finally realize what a shithead her fiancé is, she would feel it too. But three years after you met her and they’re still engaged, for five years now, and you just can’t understand it. Even when you threw yourself out there, kissed her, almost fucked her, she still chose the guy who left the entirety of the wedding planning up to her, who sometimes only thinks of her as his girlfriend, who doesn’t encourage her to pursue her dreams. You’re in love with her, have been pretty much since the day you met her, and don’t know when, if ever, you’ll stop loving her. And you hate to say this, think this even, but - “I wish I never met you.” She’s not here, of course, only you are, but you say it to her anyways, because it’s true. You love her, love everything about her, think she’s an amazing person - the best you’ve ever met, in fact. But you can’t help from wishing you never met her, because then you wouldn’t be hopelessly, ridiculously, painfully in love with a woman you’ll never see again. Tomorrow - or today? - you’ll wake up later than intended, load the boxes into your 2003 Toyota Corolla, and be out of Pennsylvania in an hour. The next day, you’ll start at Dunder Mifflin’s Stamford branch and the guy sitting in front of you will start calling you “Big Tuna” not even halfway through the day. Your boss will be really nice, and reasonable for a change, and the girl sitting behind you will be just your type, not to mention super interested in you. But something about it will just be off. You’ll refuse to admit it, but really, you won’t be able to deny it. It’ll come up every now and then, when you let it, when you just can’t ignore it anymore - when Mr. Brown comes back to do diversity training, when you see a mixed berry yogurt in the office fridge, when the receptionist greets you in the morning. And then, the merger will happen, and that day will be confusing, twisted, and downright insane, and Jan will end up offering you the number two position back at Scranton. Some part of you that never grew up, that still believes in fairy tales and happily ever afters, will want to say it’s fate. The rest of you, the part that remembers that night on your living room floor, will want to refuse. But at the end of the day, you’ll take it, because you just won’t be able to live with yourself if you say no. So you’ll pack up your things, having only stayed in Stamford a few months, and come to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a bad day after all.


End file.
